The Winner Takes It All
by Galatyn Renner
Summary: Ever wonder if there was someone before Sarah? A song-fic. Does not involve Racetrack.


The Winner Takes It All   


I don't want to talk   
About the things we've gone through   
Though it's hurting me   
Now it's history   
I've played all my cards   
And that's what you've done too   
Nothing more to say   
No more ace to play 

The winner takes it all   
The loser standing small   
Beside the victory   
That's her destiny   


I had seen him every day for as long as I could remember. He sold newspapers across from the spot where I sold flowers. When a couple came down the street, if it was a good day, the man would buy a paper from him and the lady would buy a rose from me. I laughed at the absurd headlines he made up and he would wink at me. He had this grin. . . . 

One cold, rainy December afternoon neither of us had much business going. My flowers had wilted and he was trying unsuccessfully to keep the ink on his papers from smearing. I couldn't tell if I was crying or not, because of the rain. Maybe I was, because he crossed over to me and put his arm around my shoulder. 

"Nasty weather we're havin', ain't it?" He pushed the cowboy hat back on his head. 

"Really, I hadn't noticed?" 

"Yeah." 

"So, how's the headline?" 

"Lousy, as usual." 

"I hate New York." 

He looked surprised. "That makes two of us. I'm Jack Kelly, by the way." 

"I've seen you around. I'm Emma Russell. And I'm not shaking hands." 

He laughed at that. "Buy a pape, lady?" 

"Don't mind if I do." I pulled a penny from my skirt pocket and gave it to him. Jack handed me one of the less smeary newspapers. 

I retreated into a doorway to read it, and he followed. "Would you like a flower, sir?" 

"I thought you'd never ask." He gave me my penny back and plucked a rose from my basket.   
"Y'know, Emma, it's almost as pretty as you are." He spun it around in his fingers. 

"You are a lovely liar, Jack Kelly." I wasn't pretty. My hair was wet and straggling from the rain. The hand-me-down skirt was plastered to my legs and the threadbare blouse was nothing special. 

"This time I ain't lyin'." He pulled me closer and whispered into my hair. "I watched you for a long time." 

"I've watched you, too." Jack held me like that until the sun came out. And then he kissed me.   


I was in your arms   
Thinking I belonged there   
I figured it made sense   
Building me a fence   
Building me a home   
Thinking I'd be strong there   
But I was a fool   
Playing by the rules   


Jack and I began a strange relationship. He worked and I worked, just like before, across the street from each other. That kept me going, and after we were done selling we'd go somewhere to eat or just sit in Central Park and talk. 

He told me about Sante Fe and how his parents were out there looking for a ranch. When they found the right one, he said, they would send for him. He was just selling papers to kill time. 

I asked him if maybe there was room for me on that ranch. He said sure, and kissed my forehead. My mother died that night.   


The gods may throw the dice   
Their minds as cold as ice   
And someone way down here   
Loses someone dear   
The winner takes it all   
The loser has to fall   
It's simple and it's plain   
Why should I complain?   


At my father's request, I stopped selling flowers and stayed home to look after my younger sisters. I thought I would never see Jack again, but a month later my father brought home a newspaper with his picture on the first page. The article below talked about the newsies' strike against Joseph Pulitzer and named Jack Kelly as the leader. 

I went out to do the shopping a few days after and a boy came up to me and rather abruptly asked me if I could read. When I nodded, he pushed a paper into my hand and walked on, handing out more flyers. 

It was titled The Newsies Banner and called all the kids in New York City to a gigantic rally in a couple of days. I made up my mind to go, if only to see Jack again, 

And so it was that I left my siblings in the grudging care of our landlady and set off for the square. I was obviously late, because when I got there it was packed with children of all ages. I asked everyone I ran into where Jack Kelly was. Most of them didn't know, but a boy pointed me toward the center of the throng. 

I'm not tall, but I finally saw Jack, a few yards away from me. And then I saw the girl pushing toward him from the opposite direction. She was beautiful, prettier than I was or would ever be; perfect, from her neat hair down to the skirt I was sure had been pressed that morning. She must be headed for one of the other guys: I was Jack's girl. 

Not taking any chances, I tried to get to him first, but the crowd parted for her, not me. Jack saw her and pulled her into a deep kiss. About two feet behind him, I couldn't bear to watch. Tears filled my eyes and I turned away, pushing blindly through the crowd.   


But tell me does she kiss   
Like I used to kiss you?   
Does it feel the same   
When she calls your name?   
Somewhere deep inside   
You must know I miss you   
But what can I say   
Rules must be obeyed 

The judges will decide   
The likes of me abide   
Spectators of the show   
Always staying low   


I found myself a wall and sunk down with my back against it, no longer trying not to cry. What had happened? Had he forgotten me? I couldn't stand up to her, whoever she was. I couldn't get the picture of them out of my mind. Her in Jack's arms. That should have been me. But it wasn't. And didn't he deserve better than a flower girl? He wasn't my Cowboy anymore: how could he go back to someone like me after her.   


The game is on again   
A lover or a friend   
A big thing or a small   
The winner takes it all   


I heard someone come up in front of me and I didn't look up. There was little chance that it was Jack and I wasn't even in the mood for apologetic Cowboy.   


I don't want to talk   
'Cause it makes me feel sad   
And I understand   
You've come to shake my hand   
I apologize   
If it makes you feel bad   
Seeing me so tense   
No self-confidence--but you see   
The winner takes it all   
The winner takes it all   


The someone knelt down beside me. He said, "Are you Emma? Jack used to talk about you. He said you were the best thing on God's green earth. And then he met Sarah. I don't know what happened. I'm sorry." 

I put my head up and looked into one of the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. "Why are you doing this?" 

"'Cause I wouldn't have minded Sarah, but we're neither one of us gonna get what we want. I'm Blink." He held out a hand. 

I took it. "Thank you. This means a lot." 

"'S okay. Usually the girls see this and don't give me a second look." 

His patch. "What happened? 

He swallowed hard. "A poker, when I was little. I don't want to talk about it." 

"I understand that. It doesn't take anything away from your face." 

"Thanks. Can I sit down?"   


The game is on again   
A lover or a friend   
A big thing or a small   
The winner takes it all 

The Winner takes it all   
  
  


The song 'The Winner takes It All' belongs to ABBA. Newsies belongs to Disney. I own only the fic.   



End file.
